Remembrance
by AHighAndLonesomeSound
Summary: Companion piece to The Third Annual Meeting Of Dumbledore's Army, but not humorous. An outsider's perspective on the fifth annual Victory Day ceremony. Written for the Sensational Seasonal Song Quotes Challenge.


**Remembrance**

_One benefit of summer was that each day we had more light to read by._

Jeannette Walls – _The Glass Castle_

Diagon Alley is usually very quiet on May 2 of each year. This is a day when people are at home with their families and friends, or travelling to Hogwarts. Either way, they are preparing to celebrate and remember. This is the day that Voldemort died. This is the day that a group of sixteen- and seventeen-year-old children, aided by a few teachers and a handful of social pariahs, took a stand against the greatest Dark Wizard of all time and won, and stood in the ruins of their school hugging and crying and trying to make sense of it all.

This is Victory Day.

If you are going to Diagon Alley on May 2, you probably have a very good reason for doing so. Perhaps you are a tourist over from America visiting your older English cousin in time to catch the fifth annual Victory Day ceremony. Your parents are from England, after all, and you couldn't resist visiting their homeland in time for the biggest event of the year. You needed to go to Gringotts to get some money before heading to Hogwarts. The first difference you notice is when you open the door of the Leaky Cauldron. Instead of the dingy bar you saw on your last visit, there is a magical, soundproofed curtain screening most of the room, leaving you with a narrow passage to the back door. You have almost reached the exit when the barmaid – a friendly-looking, solid young woman (_stereotypically English, really_, you think) – peers around the edge of the curtain to see who is there. You can hear the sound of movement and conversation from behind her, and the clink of glasses on tables. Your cousin bows deeply and mutters something apologetic about needing to go to the bank, and she smiles and waves you through. As you all step through the brick archway into Diagon Alley, you express your surprise at a grown adult showing so much respect to a woman in her twenties who spends her days working behind a bar.

"Don't you know who that was?" he replies, raising his eyebrows. "That's the new proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron. That's Hannah Abbott, that is. She was in Dumbledore's Army."

As you walk down the street, your cousin explains about the Leaky Cauldron, and how the surviving members of the DA seem to have taken to meeting on Victory Day before going north for the official event. He tells you how the previous year a particularly nosy _Daily Prophet_ reporter by the name of Rita Skeeter – a woman who had caused trouble for Harry Potter in the past – had tried to gatecrash the gathering in the hope of getting a scoop. The following afternoon Xenophilius Lovegood had published a special edition of the_ Quibbler_ in which his daughter Luna had outed Skeeter as an unregistered Animagus.

"It's best not to mess with them," he says with a wry grin, "and besides, they've earned some respect."

You pull out the copy of the photo that your cousin gave you earlier. _The_ photo. That's all anyone ever calls it. It was taken by some _Prophet_ photographer about six hours after Voldemort's death, and contains every surviving member of the DA. Every wizarding family in Britain owns a copy these days. It's both a commemorative trophy and a reminder that children had dared to do what the political elite had not. You scan it, picking out Hannah Abbott in the front row next to Neville Longbottom. You are about to put it back in your bag, but your eye is drawn to one person. The same person that everyone who looks at the photo is drawn to: Harry Potter himself, gazing out of the photo with a thousand-mile stare, like he is looking right through you. Even after sleep and a clean-up, he stills looks a mess after the battle, covered in cuts and bruises. He is practically being held up by Ron Weasley on his right-hand side and a pale, ethereal girl on his left.

"Luna Lovegood," says your cousin, noticing you staring at her. "She was captured and tortured by the Death Eaters along with Mr Ollivander."

He jerks his thumb in the direction of Ollivander's Wands, which has a small sign in the window saying _Closed for Victory Day_. You are a little surprised. You know who Luna Lovegood is, but you had never seen a picture of her before. You had expected somebody who duelled Bellatrix Lestrange and survived to look a little tougher, like Granger and Ginny Weasley, not this slight wisp of a thing in torn Muggle clothes, staring into space like she wasn't even aware she was having her photo taken.

You look back down at the photo. There is Hermione Granger, the youngest ever Head of the DMLE, holding hands with Ron. There is Ginny Weasley of the Holyhead Harpies. There is George Weasley (Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes is also closed. Large purple lettering in the window proclaims _WE'RE OFF CELEBRATING, AND YOU SHOULD BE TOO!_), easily identifiable by his missing ear, frowning at the camera. And there are all the others whose names you do not know, but who have become legends here in England. What strikes you is how young they all are, these heroes. They are still just children, battered and bruised and bloody after not just the battle but a year of skirmishes and torture and hiding. What makes this image even more powerful is the whispered rumours and half-truths and news reports that circulate about them. What people know – or think they know – for sure is that two years before the Battle of Hogwarts Lovegood, Potter, Longbottom, Granger, and Ron and Ginny Weasley fought Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic building. And everyone knows that Potter had competed in the ill-fated Triwizard Tournament of the year preceding that. But there are other stories that have never been confirmed by any member of the organisation: Potter fighting off a hundred Dementors single-handedly at the age of thirteen, Ginny Weasley being possessed by the Heir of Slytherin at the age of eleven, Potter, Granger and Ron Weasley fighting their way through a booby-trapped hidden section of Hogwarts to try to stop Voldemort from gaining the Philosopher's Stone during their first year, twelve-year-old Harry Potter killing a Basilisk with the same sword Neville Longbottom used to kill Voldemort's snake near the end of the Battle of Hogwarts. These children had been fighting Dark magic for nearly half their lives by the time this photo was taken, is it any wonder they look exhausted and fragile?

Your cousin nudges you. You have reached the entrance to Gringotts, and stepped into the cool of the main hall. He points at the ceiling.

"That's where they broke out," he whispers, "riding a dragon."

A passing goblin overhears him and frowns. Clearly this is still a sore subject for the bank.

* * *

A few hours later, you arrive in Hogsmeade, still reeling from the Portkey journey. You and your cousin join the procession of people trooping towards the school. You walk up the drive and in through the gates, and then turn towards the Black Lake. A stage has been set up next to the two great memorials to the dead of the Second Wizarding War; Albus Dumbledore's tomb and the Wall of Memory. It front of the stage are seats for all the attendees, with a small area cordoned off for VIPs, and a second, larger area set aside for DA members and their associates. The heroes of the DA are already there, sitting in orderly rows. The first thing you notice is that there are gaps in their ranks, unoccupied seats, each one containing a single item: a thick golden chain bearing the legend "My Sweetheart", a Muggle camera, a box of fireworks from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes…

They symbolise the fallen, your cousin tells you.

The second thing you notice is that all of the DA members are in Muggle attire, but before you can ponder that the people who have been assigned seats in their area as associates are filing in. Several of them are members of the Order of the Phoenix who you recognise from pictures in the history books that have already been written on the Second Wizarding War.

Bill Weasley is easily distinguished by his scars. He arrives with his wife and daughter. Then there are the rest of the Weasley family, led by Arthur Weasley, the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. They are closely followed by several other former Order members: Daedalus Diggle stands out because of his purple top hat. Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, winks at Harry as he takes his seat between Mr Ollivander and an enormous man with a wild beard and long dark hair. Last in line is a woman in late middle age. You have no idea who she is, but she looks like Bellatrix Lestrange might have looked before the fourteen years in Azkaban hit home, and she is leading a young boy – he looks far too young to be her only child – by the hand. As you watch, his hair turns from red to purple. A Metamorphmagus, presumably.

You turn your attention back to the DA members. They don't look like heroes or warriors, they look like young adults who would rather be spending time with their friends than sitting awkwardly at a formal event. And then it hits you. These people are all around your age, they have their whole adult lives ahead of them and have their own private hopes and dreams and ambitions. But unlike anyone else their age, they have done incredible, astonishing things, and as a result they have become symbols. The pressure of expectation must be unbearable.

You look away, and you see three sets of blonde heads in the front row of the VIP section. The Malfoys, presumably. They have been all over the news in the last few years, throwing themselves – and their seemingly-infinite bank balance – wholeheartedly into the work of post-war reconstruction. Draco Malfoy in particular has done wonders, building orphanages and care homes and retreats for those with PTSD, and throwing his weight (and purse) behind the ground-breaking Dobby Memorial Act for House Elf Rights, but it occurs to you that he will die of old age before he shakes off his reputation as Harry Potter's schoolboy rival who got pressganged into the plot to assassinate Albus Dumbledore. And then you realise that the issue of expectation works both ways. Some people will be forever lionised for teenage heroism, others haunted by teenage mistakes. The Malfoys don't have it too badly: the history books will record Harry Potter's testimony that Draco saved his life and Narcissa and Lucius switched sides during the Battle of Hogwarts and made a serious contribution to Voldemort's death. You know, however, that there is a young woman out there today who you doubt is attending the ceremony. A woman the same age as the new head of the DMLE, and from an old family to boot, but she will spend the rest of her life as the girl who tried to hand Harry Potter over to Voldemort before the battle began. History will know her as Pansy Parkinson, although doubtless she has changed her name by now.

You turn to face the stage: the ceremony is beginning. Minister Shacklebolt stands up and begins to read the names of the dead.

"Bertha Jorkins," he intones. "Department of International Magical Cooperation. Exact date unknown, but during the summer of 1994. Tortured and murdered by Lord Voldemort."

You are shocked to realise that the war began so early, you had always thought of it as lasting from the death of Dumbledore until the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, and had felt that a year of terror and death was more than enough for the people of Wizarding Britain.

"Frank Bryce. Muggle caretaker. August 23, 1994. Murdered by Lord Voldemort."

You are surprised to hear that a Muggle is on the list, and glance back at the DA in their Muggle clothes, wondering…

"Bartemius Crouch Senior. Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Murdered by Bartemius Crouch Junior on Lord Voldemort's orders. May 27, 1995."

You feel slightly sick. Civil war tears families apart, you know that. But a son killing his father is a horrific thing to think about.

"Cedric Diggory. Hufflepuff House class of 1997. Hogwarts Champion in the 1994-5 Triwizard Tournament. Murdered by Peter Pettigrew on Lord Voldemort's orders. June 24, 1995. Sirius Black. Order of the Phoenix. Killed by Bellatrix Lestrange during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, June 18, 1996."

As the list goes on, taking in a Head of the DMLE (you reflect that between those working in the Auror Office and those in the DMLE, the members of Dumbledore's Army have stepped into a lot of jobs that had a pretty short life expectancy during the war) on its way to Albus Dumbledore's death and the start of open warfare, you look around again. Several DA members are shifting awkwardly in their seats. Luna Lovegood is looking around vaguely. The Malfoys are keeping their heads down and the middle-aged woman minding the Metamorphmagus has her head bowed. You tune back into the ceremony as the Minister is ploughing through the names of those who died in the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Lavender Brown," he says, "Gryffindor House class of 1998. Dumbledore's Army. Killed fighting Fenrir Greyback during the Battle of Hogwarts, May 2, 1998. Remus Lupin, member of the Order of the Phoenix, and Nymphadora Tonks Lupin, Auror and member of the Order of the Phoenix. Killed fighting Antonin Dolohov and Bellatrix Lestrange respectively during the Battle of Hogwarts, May 2, 1998."

The young Metamorphmagus looks up at this.

"That's my Mummy and Daddy," he says softly, but with a hint of pride in his voice. Harry Potter leans over and ruffles his hair absent-mindedly.

"Colin Creevey. Gryffindor House class of 1999. Dumbledore's Army. Killed fighting unknown Death Eaters during the Battle of Hogwarts, May 2, 1998."

With that, the Minister sits down. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy both stand up and make their way up onto the stage, causing a certain amount of surprised murmuring among the crowd. Even now, these two are rarely seen together, and when they reach the front of the stage there's an awkward pause as the duo look at each other, unsure of what to do. Then Draco gives an exaggeratedly formal bow, gesturing Harry forwards, and that breaks the tension. There are chuckles from the audience.

"We are gathered here today to remember, and to celebrate," begins Harry, "but also to look forward to a new future where blood statuses and family names no longer keep us apart, but where we work together as witches and wizards, Muggle-borns, half-bloods, pure-bloods and Squibs, trying to live in harmony with each other and with our fellow magical-creatures."

He pauses awkwardly.

"That's all I have to say, really. I've never been great at speeches. Give me a broom and a snitch any day."

This gets another laugh from the crowd.

"So I'm going to hand you over to my old classmate Draco Malfoy, who has a few words to say."

They make a point of shaking hands in front of the crowd as they swap over, underlining Harry's point about working together. If these old enemies can bury the hatchet, there is no excuse for others not to do the same, that's the implication.

"We are coming out of the darkness," says Draco. He looked far more nervous than Harry as he waited to speak, but now that he is addressing the crowd he seems much more comfortable.

"We are coming out of the darkness," he repeats, "and into the light. Each day we get a little more light, and things get a little easier. But we have a long way to go. We all lost friends and loved ones in the war. Some of us have amends to make for our actions, and some of us have had to shoulder the burden of responsibility for far too long. So all of you, remember this. Do not let Victory Day be the one day a year when you think about why the war happened and what we lost as a society. This war was our war, and we must pick up the pieces."

He bows, and sits down, and soon after that the formal portion of the ceremony is over. The students of Hogwarts congregate in groups near the food tables and the lake, enjoying their day off. Some of them dart forwards to ask for autographs from various DA members. You see the Headmistress deep in conversation with the Minister and the huge man who was sitting by Krum. A rotund man in formal robes has cornered Neville Longbottom and is booming about how he "always knew that you and Harry and your friends would come good. I'm proud to have taught you!" while downing a flagon of mead. Draco Malfoy is playing catch with the Metamorphmagus, and as you watch Krum joins in, and then slowly, tentatively, as if they don't want to tread on Draco's toes, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley join them too. You wonder briefly whether the young boy will remember the summer's day when he played catch with the Chosen One, a former Death Eater, and two of the greatest Quidditch players in the history of the game, but then Draco addresses the child as "cousin" and you realise that this is another family torn apart by the war…

You suddenly realise that your cousin has wandered off. You are looking around for him when you take a step backwards and bump into somebody. You turn around apologising and a soft, dreamy voice reassures you that "it's quite alright really."

It is Luna Lovegood. You are slightly nervous in the presence of a war hero, and she looks at you with wide silvery eyes in her pale face, waiting for you to make a move. All you can think of to do is repeat your apologies.

"Oh, no, it's fine, I assure you," she smiles, proffering her hand, "I'm Luna Lovegood."

You take her hand and shake it.

"I'm Rolf," you say, "Rolf Scamander."

* * *

**A/N: This was written for Tris' Sensational Seasonal Song Quotes Challenge. The season was summer and the quote was the one in the epigraph. This is a companion piece to **_**The Third Annual Meeting of Dumbledore's Army**_**.**


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